


The Girl from Headquarters

by Kimberlyjct45



Category: James Bond - Ian Fleming
Genre: Better Bond Book Challenge, Book: Casino Royale, Canonical Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15847260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimberlyjct45/pseuds/Kimberlyjct45
Summary: A different look at the events of Ian Fleming's Casino Royale.





	The Girl from Headquarters

**Author's Note:**

> This was started and then scrapped three times because my original attempts wouldn't fall into the 5000-word limit and I was really aiming for that. In the middle of tutoring came the idea for this approach so here we are.

By the time Mathis pulls up to the curb of Vesper Lynd’s building, she has checked her make up three times, smoothed out her light pink dress five times, and ran a hand through her short, black hair once.  Vesper had been waiting in the building’s lobby. Her suitcase resting just inches away from her squared, black leather heels. She held a large floppy straw hat in one hand and her small, black, hand-stitched purse was slung onto the other shoulder. She smiled at Mathis as he walked into the lobby. He greeted her with an eager smile, his arms extended out to her.

“My dear girl, how delightful it is to see you again!” he exclaimed cradling the tops of her arms as he presses a kiss to one of her cheeks.

Vesper’s red lips curled into a grin revealing perfectly straight teeth. “It’s very lovely to see you as well.”

Mathis took her suitcase and offers Vesper his arm. She loops her arm around his while bringing up the straw hat to place on her head. They exit the building and make their way to the black car parked by the curb. Vesper recognises it. It is a standard issue MI6 security car equipped with extra shielding. The car is inconspicuous and reliable. Mathis opens the passenger door for Vesper and then turns to stow her suitcase in the trunk. Vesper settles in the seat. There is no going back anymore.

She is on her way to Royale-Les-Eaux with Mathis to assist agent 007 to aid him in playing and winning a high stakes poker game against Le Chiffre, a known operative of SMERSH. It is her first time being sent out on a mission with a double-oh. In her everyday life at MI6, as assistant to the Head of Section S, Vesper is occasionally sent out to aid or follow up on minor missions whenever it is needed. A part of her wishes she could have switched places with someone else from the office. The nerves alone were killing her. She took a deep breath.

Mathis opens the driver’s door to get into his seat. He gives Vesper another smile. “Ready, Miss Lynd?” he inquires.

Vesper nods in response.

They pull away from the curb, Mathis taking them in the direction of the airport.

 

* * *

 

In Paris, the pair pays a visit to one of Vesper’s old friends from University. She is a vendeuse for Dior and had agreed to help outfit Vesper in clothing that would allow to her blend in with the kind of people who were found at Royale-Les-Eaux.  Mathis patiently waits at the front of the store, his eyes following the movement of the people out on the shopping centre. Vesper’s friend, Lydia, pulls her to the back ordering Vesper to stand in front of the three-way mirror. Lydia pushes forth a rack on which hang various garments. She selects a black velvet dress and brings it over to the other girl. She holds it up against Vesper’s body. The black velvet dress contrasts nicely with the suntanned tone of Vesper’s skin. Vesper runs a finger along the material. It is a very lovely dress.

Lydia smiles at her. “You love it,” she says, making note of the sparkle found in the eyes of her longtime friend.  

“Yes,” responds Vesper.

“Well, go on. Try it on, though I’m sure it’ll be a perfect fit,” Lydia urges her friend pushing her in the direction of the dressing room.

It’s a perfect fit.

The dress drapes wonderfully over her figure. In just the way Vesper likes. The inner lining of the dress feels soft against her and the velvet is soothing to run her fingers over. The skirt has just enough flow to sway when she indulges in a spin but keeps out of her way when she walks. Lydia is thrilled with the fit of the gown and is soon pushing more garments at her friend to try on.

A little over an hour later Vesper rejoins Mathis at the front of the store. She is now carrying a few bags filled with her borrowed clothing for the mission and two garment bags are hanging on her arm. Her earlier ensemble of the pink dress has been replaced with a square cut grey dress and a black belt. Mathis and Vesper bid goodbye to Lydia and head to the car. They are now to head to Royale-Les-Eaux where Vesper must check into her room while Mathis makes contact with Bond and sets up a time to accompany the agent for a drink.

Mathis is caught up in his own excitement over this meeting that he doesn’t catch the way Vesper’s smiles waver or the trembling of her hands when she is pulling her seatbelt into place across her.   

 

* * *

 

James Bond is a charming man, Vesper concludes. They are seated at the Hermitage Bar. Vesper has a cigarette between her fingers, smoking it silently for the sake of having something to occupy her hands. Mathis and Bond are conversing about the promises and prospects of Royale-Les-Eaux. She notes the way Bond politely turns to her to include her in the conversation at the appropriate openings  He turns to her time and time again each time making observations about her, no doubt. Vesper remains stoic. She gives nothing away. She’s been doing this long enough to know how to act, how to remain put together.

While Bond’s attention is on Mathis, Vesper makes her own observations. She takes in his profile. There is a lock of dark hair that falls over his right eyebrow and a scar on his right cheek that makes her wonder of the story behind it. She admires the line if his jaw and his eyes.  His grey-blue eyes are sharp, occasionally they glance past Mathis to the rest of the restaurant and when he turns them on her there is intrigue playing at the edges. Vesper gives nothing away about herself in her inclusions to their conversations. James Bond is a predator waiting to strike even in this relaxed state. Vesper recognises this. It is true what they say of the double-ohs. They are indeed danger and lethality incarnate.

She accepts his dinner request.

 

* * *

 

The bomb doesn’t work. The explosion has travelled down the boulevard and shattered the glass a few feet from them. Mathis orders her to stay put as he runs off to find Bond. Vesper does not listen. Instead, she follows behind Mathis a distant away barely leaving the entrance of the Hermitage. It’s enough to see down the boulevard and watch Mathis pull up a ragged looking Bond. Vesper watches as Mathis hauls the agent away from the scene and in the direction of the agent’s hotel room. She turns away to make a phone call.

 

* * *

 

A handful of hours later, finds Vesper entering Bond’s building. The rest of her day following the failed bombing had been without incident. She had called the agent a little after the incident to verify that he was indeed alright. An hour and a half earlier she had relayed the information of Bond’s well being to her employer and had received further instructions. Mathis had stopped not long after she rang off to inform her of the latest development in the perusal of the suspected bombers.

Now, she was to have dinner with the agent before accompanying him to the casino where she was to carry out her assignment. When he greets her, Vesper watched the way his eyes pass over her form in the velvet gown she has come to love. He is no doubt storing every detail in that photographic mind of his that every agent she has met seems to be equipped with. There is something playing at the edges of his eyes, something that isn’t just the keenness of an agent but perhaps something more entirely.  It draws her in and makes her revel in the attention he’s giving her. But a stern reminder that June fifteenth is upon her pulls Vesper back to her reality.

He compliments her. She smiles.

When they are seated and she has told him of her name and its origins he surprises her.

“Can I borrow it?” he asks. His blue-grey eyes on her deep blue ones.

Vesper tilts her head in question.

“I have created a drink. A martini composed of three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, and half of Kina Lillet. Shaken, not stirred with a thin slice of lemon peel. The Vesper sounds a fitting title and appropriate to the violet hour in which it’ll be drank around the world,” he explains.

Vesper smiles an honest smile. “So long as I can try one first,” she responds, “It sounds like a drink to be proud of.”

“We’ll have one together when all this is finished,” Bond says, “Win or lose.”

Vesper’s heart clenches at the thought of not having the opportunity but whatever war was waging in her heart did not show in her facade. It remains appropriate as Bond steers them back to the topic of the menu.

“The trouble always us, not how to get enough caviar but how to get enough toast with it,” Bond explains after making a request for extra toast. Vesper couldn’t have agreed more and the guard around her heart begins to loosen.

After the wine is ordered and the sommelier is walking away, Bond turns to Vesper with a sheepish smile on his lips.

“You must forgive me,” he says, “I take ridiculous pleasure in what I eat and drink. It comes from a habit of taking a lot of trouble with details. It’s a pernickety habit, but makes one’s meals, when enjoying them alone, more interesting.”

Vesper smiles at James.

“I like it,” she admits, “I like doing everything fully getting the most out of everything one does.”

This is mostly true. It had been the way Vesper had lived before it had gone all wrong.

“Although, it does sound schoolgirlish to say so,” she adds.

Bond fills their glasses with vodka.

“Well, I agree with you anyway,” He says, “For tonight’s luck, Vesper.”

They clink their glasses. Vesper adds to the sentiment about luck and then draws him in with news about the Bulgar bombers before the agent can catch on to any stray thought on her mind.

 

* * *

 

“It’s very satisfactory to be a corpse who changes places with his murders,” Bond says after their dinner has arrived and she has finished her tale. 

Vesper thinks about the man in SMERSH’s clutches and says nothing.

Throughout dinner, the agent explains the strategy for the night, what he has planned and what he wants Vesper to do. Vesper listens with rapt attention while giving off a cold demeanour. In her mind, the wheels are turning as she lines up 007’s plans for her and the orders she was given.

He then explains how Baccarat is played.

He is a dedicated man her superior, the Head of S, had said to her. He is a nuisance, her other handler had told her. Vesper finds him fascinating.

She’s heard what others in the office have said about the double-ohs in hushed whispers. Yet having him in front of her explaining the game with detail, watching the way his eyes sweep the room, the way he knows when the waiter will appear and how his eyes study her. Well, she can’t help but wonder at the person underneath. Is James this attentive? Is James as daring and bold as the agent?

These are dangerous thoughts and Vesper knows it.   

 

* * *

 

The American, Felix Leiter, has friendly eyes aided by the mop of blonde hair that falls carefully over his forehead. He gives Vesper a warm smile when greeting her and offers her his arm.

“He’s a very serious gambler, Miss Lynd,” he nods in the direction of Bond’s retreating figure.

“Very,” she agrees, allowing herself to be led by Leiter to the roulette tables.

Leiter picks a strategic spot from which to watch the proceedings. Vesper spots Mathis in another corner watching as well, and occasionally he hides the sweep of his eyes behind his cocktail.

Nervousness begins to creep into Vesper. She smooths down her dress as a pretence to be able to feel the velvet against her palms. It is soothing. She uses that to ground herself.

Vesper takes a moment to glance over at Le Chiffre. Like the agent, he is dressed for the occasion. Unlike the agent, Le Chiffre does not exude the same confidence the agent does. She wonders why. Does he question the plan to secure his win?

She shudders internally at the idea of their handlers discovering their doubts.

The game proceeds.

Vesper, Leiter, and Mathis watch from their respective corners. Only one of them is conflicted about the outcome.

 

* * *

 

Bond loses the first round. A knot loosens inside Vesper. And then Leiter gives Bond the money to buy into the second half.  The knot returns tenfold and Vesper hopes Leiter will be spared. She is coming to like him. He makes her laugh. 

 

* * *

 

The crash resounds throughout the room. Vesper, who has Leiter engaged in conversation, turns to the high table. She catches the last of Bond’s fall, her eyes following the French man who is now disappearing into the crowd. Mathis is in a corner somewhere. He wouldn’t know who to look for and currently, he too is distracted by Bond’s fall. A few men are surrounding the agent helping him up. Leiter’s eyes are skimming the crowd for Mathis. The huissier comes over to them. He hands the American agent a Malacca stick saying something about it belonging to a friend of Leiter’s. Felix takes it without hesitation and thanks to the huissier.

“It’s a gun!” he exclaims under his breath after inspecting it.

So the second attempt has failed.

Vesper looks up at the high table. Her eyes going back and forth between the agent and Le Chiffre. The outcome is not going to be favourable.

Mathis comes over to them to take away the Malacca stick and then walks away to give new orders to his men.

 

* * *

 

Bond wins. It’s not grand and dramatic and Vesper chides herself internally for thinking so. There will be new orders no doubt from M and her handlers. Bond invites her for a drink and she accepts without hesitation.

 

* * *

 

In the short break she takes before meeting Bond for that drink, Vesper receives a phone call. A new plan is in place and if that fails then she will take part in what follows. She tells them where she and Bond can be found before hanging up. She goes through a few breathing exercises before meeting with the agent.

 

* * *

 

When the maitre d’hotel hands her a note she is almost relieved. The waiting was killing her and not knowing was also killing her. Her composure had begun to fray at the edges and the fear is now growing. She’s about to lead a double-oh into a trap.  

 

* * *

 

The velvet dress is ruined Vesper thinks after she has been trussed up in it. The skirt has been pulled up and tied over her head, leaving her bare legs exposed. They cut a slit in the fabric for her to breathe. Despite the assurances that she won’t be harmed, she is still afraid and she wants to cry. This is not the life she had wanted for herself.

That letter better be worth it, she thinks. She feels guilty immediately afterwards.

 

* * *

 

Bond’s screams are terrible to listen to. She is still tied up in her dress. Nothing is going as they planned. If Bond gives nothing away on his own terms they’re going to start on her. And Vesper has heard of what they’ve done to others. She silently cries. 

* * *

 

Silence comes after the thumps of bodies hitting the floor. The world is quiet and dark for   
Vesper. It remains that way until the door creaks open and she hears Mathis gasp, “My dear girl!”      

* * *

 

A day later in the safety of her hotel room, Vesper is furious with her handlers and tells them she will no longer pass on information. That letter be damned.

 

* * *

 

When she goes to see Bond a few days later, she dresses in another outfit given to her by her friend.  She has spent the days wandering around Royale and being wary. Her composure is better and when she cries out of guilt Bond offers her comfort. She tells him her part of the story. The part he wants to hear. It’s to her surprise that he doesn’t prod for details.

“I’ll make it up to you somehow.” She promises him while ignoring the alarm bells in her head.

 

* * *

 

In between her visits to Bond in the afternoons, Vesper spends her days wandering around Royale. She goes up and down the beaches, eats at the restaurants by the boardwalk, and reads leisurely in the shade. She entertains Bond with tales of her adventures and the people she sees. Bond, in turn, tells her about his own escapades within the service and during his time in the Royal Navy. Sometimes he asks about her job and what she had done before MI6. These are the only times Vesper withholds the full truth from Bond. She skirts around details and mostly tells Bond of the memories that didn’t involve _him._

Vesper’s nights are an entirely different story. Most nights she has nightmares about what James had endured. His screams echoing in her head and reminding her of the helplessness and guilt she had felt. Mathis had told her the gist of it and then Vesper had gone searching for the details. A part of her regrets it. The other persisting nightmare is about _him_ and what they will do to him because of _her_ , because of what she has done.

She does her best to push it all into a box and into the corners of her mind. She busies herself with the shops and the beach and having clothes delivered to Bond, and watching over the repairs being made to the damage Bond’s Bentley that had suffered in the car chase that had followed her kidnapping.

 

* * *

 

When the fifteenth of June comes there was no letter. Vesper doesn’t panic. She had expected this. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the weight of the loss or the guilt that has her bending over as she sobs.

She was directly responsible for this one death. 

 

* * *

 

 

Bond listens to her intently whenever she is visiting him. His blue-grey eyes always on her, watching her with interest, with curiosity. And as the days pass into weeks there is warmth that seems to seep into them as well. 

* * *

 

James’ eyes crinkle at the edges whenever he laughs. He does that often when Vesper tells him tales of the office at Station S. They also make an appearance when he smiles a full smile, the kind of smile that touches his eyes and makes the blue seem less cool. He gives her this smile every time she walks in and it makes Vesper’s day.

* * *

 

Bond asks her to find a place for them to stay. They’ve earned enough leave time to take advantage of the sight before returning to London, he tells her during one of their garden walks.

Vesper spends the next few mornings searching for a suitable place. 

* * *

 

James is deemed healthy and free to go. The three weeks of his recovery have taken them into July. Vesper is excited to take him to the house by the sea with a courtyard and wonderful view. That is until she catches sight of the car behind them on the way to the house. Bond notices and has the car pulled over into brush so he can assure her it is no one, just an average civilian. Except, she recognises the profile of the man driving and although she's covered up traces of her anxiety, she is still afraid.

They won’t let them go. Won’t let her go.

How did she not see this coming?

* * *

 

The next couple of days are some the best and worst. Vesper has James’ undivided attention and SMERSH makes contact. This time Vesper doesn’t ignore them like she did in the days following her rescue. If calling in twice a day to ‘check in’ will keep James alive then she’ll risk it. After all, she knows that the man in the black car on the road is one of SMERH's hit men. No doubt he's around to finish James and her off.

James brushes off her concerns when she voices her fear of being followed. It agitates her more and she wishes to tell him who the man is but that would give her away and she doesn’t want to lose the smile James reserves for her.  

* * *

 

The fear is suffocating Vesper. She had meant for this to be a memorable holiday. She can hardly be joyful when she knows the man is around. She makes the phone calls to Paris. There is no response. There won’t be unless orders have changed.  She hopes there’s never a response. 

* * *

 

They are good moments in the midst of all the fear and anguish on Vesper’s part and the exasperation with her on James’ side. Despite all, he remains patient and reassures her from time to time. They take walks on the beach hand in hand. During their meals together he still regales her with tales of the SIS and makes jokes. They dance one night and it’s the loveliest Vesper has ever felt.

James holds her with care. The hands she imagines have done dreadful things are always gentle with her.

And when they kiss, it is passionately and fervently. And very unlike anything Vesper has experienced.  

 

* * *

 

They want more information. They want to know what she and James do and where they will be. Vesper skirts around the truth remaining tight-lipped about specifics. They can’t remain in their bubble much longer. Surely soon M or the Head of S will be calling them back.

Her handlers are beginning to get infuriated and impatient with her. There are vague threats inserted into their short conversations. The worry is gnawing at Vesper.

 

* * *

 

She’s beginning to cave. If this continues, they’ll eliminate them both. If she hands over the information they’re seeking they may spare her but Bond will be eliminated and Vesper knows she could never live with his death on her hands.

 

* * *

 

Vesper contemplates James and the time they have spent together. She thinks about the coldness in his eyes when she first met him and the more recent warmth she has come to find in them. She thinks about the lock of hair that falls over his eyebrow no matter how many times she brushes it back. She thinks over how soft his dark hair is and the number of time she has run her fingers through it.

And James, with his smile and knowledge of the world, who has witnessed horrors and is much more daring and brave then she could ever be, James has chosen to be here with _her._

 

* * *

 

She makes up her mind on a solo trip to the pharmacy in town.

 

* * *

 

Vesper savours her last night with James. She kisses him passionately. She memorises the way he feels under her fingertips and the way he touches her. They take their time that night. If Bond is suspicious of something, he doesn’t bring it up. Before she sends him away, Vesper gives him a farewell kiss that tastes bittersweet.

 

* * *

 

After the door joining their rooms through the bathroom has closed, Vesper pulls on her nightgown and goes to write a letter. The letter is addressed to James but she wonders if she’s really just trying to convince herself. This is a bold move on her part but at least in this version, she has a hand in her own fate. Something she hasn’t had for a long time.

She places the letter on her nightstand and sits on the bed. If they’d had more time would James have come to truly trust her, she asks herself. Perhaps in another life, they would have fallen deeply in love and in time James would trust her completely. Perhaps if they had met differently or if Vesper hadn’t been compromised this would have ended happily. Perhaps there’s a version of this where they don’t meet. Would that end any better?

Vesper reaches for the sleeping pills.    

 

                                 

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for taking the time to read. Please feel free to leave thoughts in the comment section.


End file.
